


Trouble in Paradise

by sheep_emilia



Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-26
Updated: 2011-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheep_emilia/pseuds/sheep_emilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We did it once and it got awkward," Jared told Hanna in the pilot. This is my take on the joke, only it wasn't really a joke...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble in Paradise

We did it once and it got…awkward.

Understatement. Fucking understatement. They did it once, that much was true. And it _was_ make up sex. Sort of. Well, if you consider making-up-for-all-the-time-he’s-been-lusting-after-Peter-without-even-realizing-it as make up sex.

And they were drunk. Fuck, were they drunk! And then they were drunk and naked, tearing at each other clothes, grabbing each other awkwardly and desperately, rubbing against each other until they came and fell asleep right there on the floor, entwined and partially covered by what used to be their clothes.

And boy, did it get awkward. So awkward that they never mentioned it again, until Jared did mention it once, exactly in the same way he’s mentioned it to Hanna, and suddenly it was a joke and they just kept using it and it wasn’t so awkward anymore. No one believed them, of course, and there were times Peter wasn’t sure it actually happened. Maybe it never did. Maybe it started out just like this, as a silly joke, something they’d tell people to shock or amuse them.

Only most of the time, especially at nights, he knew it _must_ have happened. Otherwise, how would he know what it felt like to have Peter pinned beneath him? How would he know how Peter sounded like when he was desperate for his touch and so close to coming that his hard cock throbbed in Jared’s hand in the most exhilarating way? How would he know what it felt like to have Peter’s hand on his own cock, stroking it eagerly while Peter sucked on his neck?

Of course, considering the time he spent imagining all those things, he may have well confused _knowing_ with vivid imagination.

But he remembered, all to clearly, standing in front of the mirror the next morning, his finger tracing the hickey Peter left on his neck, trying to grasp the meaning of all that and failing miserably as the demons of hangover pounded painfully in his skull.  
He remembered Peter, opening his eyes to find him already awake and partially dressed, his eyes drawn to that same hickey and their rushed morning routine, awkward and silent.  
Mostly, he remembered how quickly Peter averted his eyes from his hickey and didn’t look at him directly again until he first used that incident as a joke and things weren’t so awkward anymore.

So yeah, they did it once, and it got awkward, and they never mentioned it again unless they were making a joke out of it.

Sometimes Jared wondered what would happen if did mention it, for real. Like when it was only Peter and him in the room.

Now that would really be trouble in paradise.

 

He didn’t count on Hanna repeating it. For a patent Franklin line, it was kind of trite, not one of his best. Not something people tended to repeat. But she did, and for the first time till it became The Joke That Made Things Right Again, he could see Peter wasn’t pleased. He almost expected him to say something afterwards, but of course he didn’t – that would, after all, mean they would be _talking about it_. He just glanced at him, no doubt counting on him to get the hint and said nothing at all.

So of course he just had to repeat it. To Damien, too, who didn’t take to it quite as well as Hanna, sighing and shaking his head after giving them one sharp look that implied that he actually _believed_ him.

And of course, Peter was furious. It was in his every movement, in every snappy remark.  
For some reason, it didn’t bother Jared as much as it should have.

Maybe it was all those nights he’d spent with his hand on his dick, thinking about pinning Peter to the floor, pushing his pants down and taking his hard cock into his mouth, or any one of other million scenarios involving Peter he had running through his head when he jerked off. Maybe he was just tired.

Maybe, he thought watching Peter pulling off his tie, still avoiding looking at him, he _wanted_ Peter to snap. Maybe it would be better than not talking about it at all, or making a Franklin  & Bash joke out of it.

“Oh-oh,” Carmen said as soon as she came into the room, “trouble in paradise?”

Not that hard to figure out with Peter’s sullen expression and jerky movements, Jared thought.

“No, just reminiscing about good ol’ times,” he said brightly, “you know, that one time when…”

But Peter was already shooting dark glances at him and Carmen was backing out of the room. He smiled, staring at Peter.

Come on, he thought. _Say something!_

“You just won’t let it rest, will you?!” and sure enough, Peter exploded right in his face, flushed and waving his hands right in Jared’s space.

He looked at him, still smiling brightly. He was much better at playing dumb than being dumb. Sometimes it even worked on Peter.

Not tonight.

“Don’t fucking start,” Peter inched closer and Jared had to forcibly suppress his instinct to take a step back.

“Why can’t you just let it go?” Peter was so close to him now, so pissed that Jared could see that vein rising on his temple. It should have scared him. Usually it did. Usually it meant that Peter was _really_ mad.

Not tonight. Tonight, it made him want to lean closer and lick the sweat of Peter’s temple. To pull him closer and…

But they couldn’t really be much closer than they already were now, could they, what with Peter’s face just inches away from him and Jared’s cock already filling, responding inappropriately to his partner’s fury and proximity?

“Why do you have to do this?” Peter asked again, not so loudly this time, almost whispering before he pulled Jared closer and smashed their lips together.

And here they were again – kissing hungrily, hands everywhere, buttons flying and eager hands reaching for more – more exposed skin, more flesh to grab, more contact, rubbing against each other frantically.

“Stop,” Jared whispered, “for fuck’s sake…” he pushed Peter away feebly, hardly believing he was doing it. It was damn hard to do, too. All he really wanted is _more_ and _closer_ and…

“What the fuck?” Peter pulled away, one hand still grasping Jared’s waist, his face flushed and his eyes shining with lust and confusion.

“Stop,” Jared repeated, “we just…can’t.”

“Fuck, Jared,” Peter laughed and it was bitter and disbelieving and the worst sound Jared has ever heard, “as you keep reminding me… we already have!”

He could just stare at Peter as he let him go, wiping the sweat from his forehead and shaking his head.

“You had to do this, didn’t you?” Peter was struggling to pull on his pants, jumping on one foot and still making those little, bitter laughing sounds that made Jared’s stomach twist painfully, “you had to make a joke out of it. I mean, of course you had. It’s all a fucking joke to you!”

“No,” snapping out of his shock Jared finally protested, “no, you don’t understand…”

“No, _you_ don’t understand!” Peter yelled, giving up on his pants and throwing them back on the floor with disgust, “you don’t get it! I fucking _dreamt_ about it! I had _dreams_ about that night! It’s not a fucking joke!”

For a moment, Jared really couldn’t move, let alone say anything. Peter’s words kept running in his head, meaningless. He just…it didn’t make sense.

“I dreamt about it too,” he said eventually, every word coming out quietly and slowly, until Peter finally turned to look at him, “I dreamt about it too,” he said more clearly, taking a step towards Peter.

Fuck. They were going to do it on the floor again, weren’t they?


End file.
